5 Detective Novels, November 1949 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Pulp, Anthology
Publisher: 5 Detective Novels
Published: 1949-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

PAUL ORR silently stared at the Mexican who stood in the doorway before him. He had steeled himself to being arrested but now that he faced it he was a little stunned. Why were there not more detectives?

“What is it you want?” Orr asked.

“The money, Doctor,” the well groomed young Mexican said smoothly.

“I am not a doctor,” Orr said grimly.

White teeth gleamed in a slow smile. “I know.” The gun came from the jacket pocket and was held even with the Mexican’s hip. It was a black, snub-nosed automatic. Paul tried not to look at it.

“You are arresting me?’ he asked.

The smile remained. “No, señor, I am killing you.”

“I understand.” Paul Orr’s voice did not quaver. And strangely he felt no twinge of fear.

“I must kill you,” the man in the doorway said as though he were apologizing for stepping on Orr’s toe, “so that you may not tell to whom you gave the money that I intend to keep for myself.”

“Obviously. But what if I say I haven’t the money?”

The smile vanished and the Mexican prodded the gun into Orr’s stomach.

“Give it to me—the bag with the cash.” Paul Orr looked down at the gun. He waited for a long moment, then said quietly, “All right. You’ll find it in the closet.”

He walked across the room and the Mexican followed. Orr opened the closet door and turned. And as he moved his left foot slid back, bracing him. His hand, half raised, doubled to a fist.

The Mexican took the punch, but chance had favored him and he missed the full force of the pile-driver blow. For an instant before it came, he had started to move and the aim of Orr’s fist had been slightly deflected. Orr’s left hand darted out and grabbed the gun wrist of the olive-skinned man. His right crashed straight through again.

This time it went home—a blow square between the eyes. The Mexican’s nose spurted blood. His eyes slammed shut as though a sledgehammer had hit him. He slid silently to the floor.

Orr pushed him into the closet and rubbed the blood from his fists with his handkerchief. He glanced at the dressing gown that hung in the closet, with the swift idea of tying the Mexican up, but heard McGregor coming from the next room. He wouldn’t have time! Grabbing up the Mexican’s gun, he slipped it into his pocket and hurriedly shut the closet door.

McGregor’s voice boomed. “Well, your visitor’s gone, I see. Why didn’t you call us?”

Orr whirled toward him. “I thought perhaps you and Helen might want to talk,” he said. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“We do want to talk,” Helen called out. She appeared at the door. “But with you, Paul.”

Orr attempted an easy, apologetic smile as the three sat down again. “A little business. I’ll tell you all about it before we’re married, darling.”

Helen smiled. “Why worry? We’re more interested in talking about something else. It partly involves the reason I went to see your mother before we left Los Angeles, Paul.

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